1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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